


Zephyr

by Astroavis



Series: Sakura Week 2018 [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: BAMF Haruno Sakura, Empowered Women, F/M, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Pining, Priestess Sakura Haruno, Priestesses, Tengu, Tengu Madara Uchiha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astroavis/pseuds/Astroavis
Summary: Ever since Madara was a nestling, he had been fascinated by his mother’s tales of the Haruno priestesses. When he finally investigates the temple as a young, fledgling tengu, he finds himself falling for a young pink haired priestess in the forest.





	Zephyr

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for Sakura Week 2018, Day 5: Japanese Mythology. It turned into more of Japanese folklore but whatever. I tried to be as accurate to the legends as I could but I did take some creative liberties on some fronts.
> 
> Tengu (bird like creatures from Japanese folklore) are often portrayed as wearing the clothes of Yamabushi, or mountain hermits who are believed to have mystic powers. Their clothes are made up of a hakama (divided skirt) which is made into “pants” through the use of protective Kyahan (leggings/strips of leather or cloth that bind the legs of the hakama to the calves), a Suzukake (a kind of shirt/jacket), a Yui-Gesa (a kind of vest which is decorated with six pompoms to symbolize the six virtues - I have excluded this from my Tengu design because I do not think of them as ascribing to a kind of monkhood), and a Hirataka-nenju (a rosary with 108 beads that is hung from the neck in the mountains but wrapped around the wrist with three turns anywhere else).
> 
> Yamabushi also wear a kind of straw sandals and have a number of other kinds of equipment but this doesn’t apply to the tengu as I imagine them as having bird like talons for feet and not needing this extra equipment. Tengu are often shown to carry a Ha-uchiwa, a feathered fan said to summon great winds. The deity Amanozako is the “daughter” of Susanoo and the mother of all tengu. Komainu are lion-dog hybrids. It is common to find twin statues of them guarding temples in Japan, one form being the a-gyo (“a” shape) and the other being the un-gyo (“un” shape). A palanquin/litter is a human carried carriage. Konohanasakuya-hime is the goddess of Mount Fuji and volcanoes and is considered to be a symbol of life.

****

Ever since Madara was a nestling, curled up in the nest with his brothers, he had been fascinated by the tales his mother told them of the Haruno priestesses.

  
  


He had been enraptured when his mother had first told him the story of the band of human women and how they were special, different from the other priestesses in the neighboring mountains. Not only did they commune with the spirits and deities but they taught the women who worshiped at their shrine how to fight. Many villages despised the priestesses for teaching women the art of combat and that hatred had forced them to flee into the mountains to find refuge.

  
  


The head of the priestesses, a woman named Mebuki, had come to meet with the leader of their tribe of tengu at the time, Madara’s own father Tajima. He had been so satisfied with their respect of the forest and with the ease they brought to the spirits on their mountain that he had gifted the priestesses with the land they desired to build their temple.

  
  


Ever since their appearance, they had made a quiet home of worship in the valley, hidden within the deepest part of their forest and nestled beneath a waterfall fed by the rivers and lakes at the crest of their mountain. And, ever since Madara had first heard tales of them, the women had been a source of curiosity for him.

  
  


As Madara roosted in the nest with his brothers at night, he would dream of the tribe of women and their mystical connection with the spirits and deities of their world. He was fascinated by the Haruno women, more than the tales of demons and ghosts, more than the legends of the deities, more than any story his clan would regale him with.

  
  


He wanted to meet them.

 

* * *

  
  


When Madara was but a young fledgling, his raven wings having only grow strong enough and large enough to carry him short distances, he had ventured out into the forests to seek out the Haruno temple. Sneaking away from the watchful eyes of his mother and father, he slipped into the trees to find the warrior priestesses.

  
  


He only knew, from the stories his mother had told him, that their temple sat in the densest part of their forests and that it was overlooked by a great waterfall which drained water from the lakes and rivers near his own roost. Keeping to the trees, he followed the river leading out of the crest of the mountain and searched for the waterfall that would lead to their home.

  
  


Madara had heard the waterfall before he caught sight of the intricately built temple, an excited smile spreading across his lips. As stealthily as he could, he dove off of the edge of the cliff, following the spray of water, and landed in the trees near the Haruno temple. Before he could venture closer to investigate, a flash of pink in the distance caught his attention.

  
  


Remaining hidden in the canopy, he leapt from branch to branch until he found a suitable perch to investigate. His talons wrapped around the branch beneath his feet as he gazed into the clearing in the forest below him, his sharp eyes settling on a pink haired girl dressed in a red hakama and a white haori.

  
  


A thrill of excitement rushed through him as he realized he had finally found one of the Haruno priestesses, even if this one was so young that she appeared to be around his age.

  
  


He watched curiously as she plucked carnations from a lush bed of flowers before her, the girl weaving the multicolored blossoms into a messy crown. A sloppy crown was already perched on her head, the haphazard headdress more stems than flowers.

  
  


Just as Madara had been about to adjust in his perch to try to sneak a look at the girl's face, the sound of footsteps behind him startled him, his talons digging into the branch in his surprise. His head whipped around to face the source of the footsteps, his eyes settling on a dark haired woman wearing the same clothes the girl wore.

  
  


“There you are, little blossom! Come on, it’s time for evening prayer!” the woman declared, a friendly smile spread across her face.

  
  


When he turned back to face the pink haired girl and he finally caught sight of her face, his breath caught in his chest.

  
  


She was so… cute.

  
  


“Coming, big sister!” the girl returned, plucking one last flower for her unfinished crown before she ran over to the elder woman.

  
  


“What do you have there?” the woman asked cheerfully as they began their walk to the temple a short distance away.

  
  


Madara silently followed the pair, stealthily leaping from branch to branch. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of the girl, instantly fascinated by her. For a moment he wondered if this was what imprinting was before shaking his head at the ridiculous notion.

  
  


“They’re flower crowns! I’m not very good at making them but I think they’ll like them,” she excitedly explained with a wide smile as she worked to weave in the final flower and finish her crown.

  
  


“Who will like them? Who did you make them for?” the elder priestess asked.

  
  


“They’re for A and Un!” she declared, holding up her now finished crown triumphantly.

  
  


“A and…? Oh! Oh, little blossom. You’re too sweet for this world,” the woman praised before brushing her fingers through the young girl’s hair.

  
  


Madara’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked on, confused by their words. He continued to travel through the trees like a wraith, silent and unnoticed, before he had no more trees to leap to. He lingered at the edge of the forest, unable to fully enjoy the grandness of the Haruno temple when his attention was so drawn to the pink haired girl.

  
  


He looked on as the two priestesses entered the temple grounds. When he watched as the girl placed the flower crowns onto the stone heads of the komainu statues which guarded their temple, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips. The spirits of the komainu within the statues preened under the affection from the young priestess, their wards growing more powerful with her attentions.

  
  


So she was cute and kind…

  
  


After watching the two priestesses enter their intricately built temple, Madara decided that he would return to see her again. Although it took much longer to finally find the opportunity to sneak away when he returned home and received a harsh scolding from his parents for running off unsupervised.

 

* * *

  
  


For months after that, the Madara would make any excuse he could to delve into the forest and find his priestess. Whether it was a lie about how he would be training with the crows in the valley, a half truth about how he was going to go hunting for rabbits, or a mostly true statement about how he wanted to practice flying, he would find any reason he could to watch her from the treetops as she ventured into the woods to explore.

  
  


He would smile as he watched her whistle to the birds which sung in the trees, trying to imitate their calls. His chest would feel light when he watched her plant any seeds she had gathered in the forest, often returning to the sproutlings to whisper words of encouragement. His heart would warm as he watched her help any wounded or hungry animals she came across, sharing with them her water and her food.

  
  


Despite his growing affection for her, Madara struggled to gather the courage to come down from his perch and actually talk to her. The closest he could ever manage was to use his magic to transform himself in a crow so he could swoop down from the trees to be close to her. She was so kind that she would share with him her bread and her sweets and could always recognize him even when he hid among the flocks of crows in the forest.

  
  


She called him Karasu, a simple but sweet nickname which made him preen with satisfaction.

  
  


One day, when he was in his crow form and enjoying a rakugan that she had given him, the sweet crumbs from the human treat melting in his mouth, she had cautiously reached out to touch him. He had frozen in place as he watched her slowly reach out, his heart racing so fast in his chest he thought he might lose control of his spell.

  
  


She had brushed one finger down his feathered back, a burst of satisfaction rushing through him. He felt as the seams of his henge began to unravel and panicked, shooting back up into the trees in a flurry. He just barely made it into the concealing canopy before he returned to his normal form, his feathers fluffed up wildly and his talons digging into the branch beneath his feet.

  
  


Madara panted as he tried to catch his breath, feeling as his face heated with the force of his blush.

  
  


She had _touched_ him...

  
  


His attention was broken when he watched as one of his own feathers flutter down from the canopy, humiliation rushing through him as he realized he had truly lost one of his precious feathers, the most prized possession of a tengu. In his embarrassment, he had fled, not once turning to look back.

  
  


His humiliation had only compounded when even more of his feathers began to fall out once he returned home. To his horror, his father had sat him down to explain that he had begun his second molt, him having been too young to remember his first. The elder tengu had been suspicious, saying such a thing normally happened at an older age but that it could be quickened by the tengu overusing their magic.

  
  


Madara had carefully skirted out of that scolding although it felt like a hollow victory as he lamented at home, humiliated by his patchy wings and the fact he had _lost a feather_ in front of his priestess.

 

* * *

  
  


It took weeks for Madara's old feathers to fall out and for his new feathers to finally come in and even longer for him to gather the courage to face her again. When he finally made his way back to see her, it was an even longer period of time before he used a henge to transform into a crow and visit with her properly. Or, at least as properly as he could bring himself to.

  
  


“Karasu!” the young priestess had greeted with a overjoyed smile, “You came back!”

  
  


Surprised by her happiness at seeing him again, Madara just tilted his head at her from his perch on top of a short shrub.

  
  


“Here. I think you dropped something the last time I saw you,” she began as she reached into the pouch at her side, digging through it until she pulled out the feather he had lost the last time he had seen her.

  
  


She carefully held out his feather to him, moving slowly as if she were worried about scaring him off. He stared at her in shock, overwhelmed by the fact that his priestess had held onto his feather for months as she waited for him to come back so she could return it to him.

  
  


“Here. And I’m really sorry I scared you so bad last time… I didn’t want to make you lose a feather…” she apologized, looking away shamefully.

  
  


Madara moved closer, cautiously gathering his lost feather in his beak and taking it from her. Overcome by a sudden boldness and a want to show his appreciation, he pressed his small body into her hand, nestling against her palm. His heart leapt at her tiny gasp and his eyes slid shut as he basked in the warmth of her hand and the satisfying sensation of her fingertips running along the feathers of his wing.

  
  


Before he could lose control of his henge once again, he moved away from her, flapping his wings and taking the the air once again. He shot into the concealing layers of the canopy and rested on a thick branch high in the treetops. He abandoned his spell, returning to his tengu form, and gazed down at his lost feather with a smile.

  
  


In that moment, as Madara felt the gentle breeze brush through his new wings and as he gazed at the feather that his priestess had waited so long to return to him, he realized that he had fallen in love with the girl he knew only as blossom.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Madara’s wings could now carry him high into the clouds and to the farthest reaches of the forest, his raven wings having grown large and powerful in his adulthood. Despite his capability to travel to any place in his mountain, he more often than not found himself flying to the Haruno temple, deep in the valley of the forest he now called his own.

  
  


His father’s spirit had long since returned to the sky and, following his passing, leadership of their clan of tengu had fallen to Madara. He now bore the responsibility of leading his tribe and protecting the mountain and the forest which they called home. He had taken to his duty well, keeping the safety and happiness of his family and his forest as his highest priority. But, despite how well he lead his family, he still found himself overwhelmed by the struggles of being tribe leader.

  
  


No matter how anxious or stressed he became, however, he was always able to find a reprieve with the time he spent watching over his priestess. On days like today, he would seek out his priestess, his raven wings carrying him down to the familiar temple. His dark mask, carved into the shape of a beak, hung heavy on his face but diverted the whipping air away from his eyes. As a boy, he hadn’t been able to fly quickly but, as an adult, the personalized masks his clanmates wore became a welcomed addition during high speed flight.

  
  


Madara spotted a familiar perch from the sky, just a short ways from the temple of priestesses, and swooped down to land upon it. Not a leaf was disturbed by his silent landing, the talons on his claws not even leaving a scratch upon the branch. He expanded his senses, searching for the Haruno, and was able to pick up the enchanting sound of her familiar voice.

  
  


He silently moved through the canopy, drawing closer to her and nearly crooning at the satisfying melody of her whistling. When he finally caught sight of her, all of his troubles from leading his tribe washed away.

  
  


His blossom…

  
  


His priestess had grown into a powerful woman of her own right, her body strong and her mind sharp. She would still venture into the forest that surrounded her temple, tending to the flora she had planted as a child and perfectly whistling the tunes of the birds in the trees.

  
  


Madara had yet to learn her name during all his years of spying but that fact did nothing to abate his feelings for her.

  
  


He happily watched as the woman in the clearing below him gathered herbs, the tengu tucking his wings against his back and getting comfortable in his tree. He marveled at her beauty and her grace as she carefully plucked a variety of plants, gathering them in pouches which she piled into a woven basket.

  
  


Although she appeared to be so peaceful and safe now, he worried for her.

  
  


Recently, Madara had been made aware of stirrings in a nearby village at the foot of the mountain. The men of the village had always been offended by the warrior priestesses in the forests but, after a woman from the settlement had fled to join the Haruno’s, they had grown furious. He worried for the Haruno temple with the growing discontent of the human men and was concerned they would come to try to steal back the woman they viewed as property.

  
  


The tengu leader despised the men of this town, the lot of them always having caused trouble for his family. A man from the village had duped one of his cousins, tricking him out of his straw cloak. The human had used the cloak, a magical garment which granted the wearer invisibility, to cause mayhem in the other human villages.

  
  


Madara could admit he didn’t hate all of the humans who resided in the villages at the foot of his mountain. When he was young, an old man with a lump on his face had come across him and his brothers dancing in the forest and had joined them. He had been a kind soul, sharing with him the scant food he had brought and his friendship. To show their appreciation, him and his brothers had removed the tumor from his face and bestowed upon him a gourd which would never empty of the sake within.

  
  


The next night, another old man with a lump on his face, and one who had heard of their friend’s good fortune, traveled into their forest to find them. He tried to steal one of their gourds and, disgusted by both his attempt at theft and his hideous dancing, him and his brothers had given him the lump of the the first man in addition to his own as punishment.

  
  


It had been many years since Madara had had a positive experience with the humans in the villages. Since his experience with his elderly human friend, a man had stolen his brother’s fan, using it to try to trick an innocent woman into marrying him. Izuna had been nearing cruel in his punishment, having returned to their mountain with his fan and the man’s head in hand.

  
  


Another human had attacked his cousin Kagami with an axe when he had curiously come down to investigate what the woodcutter had been whittling. He still bore the scar of the axe upon his wing, a stretch of feathers missing but luckily not interfering with his flight.

  
  


The crows had told Madara about the growing agitation in the human villages at the foot of the mountain and how trouble would soon arrive for the priestesses of the Haruno temple. That had been a week ago and, even when he was unable to find the time to come down to look after his priestess, he made sure that the birds kept an eye on her.

  
  


No sooner had the thought of his concerns crossed his mind that the sound of a great gong being struck in the distance met his ears. The priestess below him perked up, her alertness tensing every muscle in her body, before she began a sprint towards the temple, abandoning her basket of herbs as she went. The tengu felt his heart race in his chest as he silently shot through the canopy above her, keeping a close eye on the object of his affection as she ran back to her home.

  
  


When Madara came to perch on the familiar tree that rested a ways from the Haruno temple, his eyes widened upon what he saw. A small army of men, armed with both real and makeshift weapons, bore down upon the temple. Some held torches which they used to light containers of oil that they hurled at the temple in an attempt to burn it down. Others battled with Haruno warriors, trying to take from them not only their home but their lives.

  
  


The priestesses, armed with finely honed weapons, valiantly fought back their attackers with cries of fury and passion.

  
  


Madara watched as the the pink haired priestess flew into the conflict, confronting one of the invaders at the edge of the grouping. She grappled with the man, forcing him to the ground and wrenching his dull katana from his hands. He watched in amazement as she leveled her attacker with a bare handed strike so powerful that the man immediately slumped over, unconscious.

  
  


She turned her attention to her next opponent, facing down the armed man with no fear even though she held no weapon.

  
  


As he gazed upon his warrior battling against the horde of men, he desperately wanted to help. He wanted to swoop down upon the field and gather one of these men in his talons so he could drop them from the sky. He wanted to protect the woman he had fallen in love with even if she wasn’t aware of his affections, let alone his name.

  
  


Even as Madara desperately wished to assist in the battle, he couldn’t help but admire his priestess as she defended her home. Her strikes were vicious and calculating, yet another act that displayed her strength and intelligence.

 

The tengu caught sight of a man breaking off from the invaders at the same moment that his priestess noticed him. They both watched as he sneaked around the fighting and into the temple, disappearing into the holy space.

  
  


Madara grimaced with worry as he watched her give chase, following the man into the temple. He took to the skies with a few mighty flaps of his wings, flitting over the battle and into a cherry blossom tree next to the temple. Although he was now far closer than he ever would have attempted before, his worry for his priestess allowed him to ignore his concern.

  
  


He clenched his teeth as he watched the man flee from the temple, a small stone statue clutched in his hands. For a moment he wondered if he would be forced to rip this man’s throat from his body for hurting his priestess until he watched her fly out of the temple, hot on his heels.

  
  


He breathed a sigh of relief even if anxiety still coursed through him as he chased after her. He tried to keep his eyes on the human woman he had fallen in love with as he followed the pursuit, flying from tree to tree as stealthily as he could manage in his agitated state.

  
  


As Madara gave chase, he fought against every ingrained impulse in his body. He was the defender of this forest, the ruler of this mountain. Every instinct within him demanded he swoop down and sink his talons into the man’s neck, this attacker who dared to invade his lands and lay siege to the peaceful home of his priestess.

  
  


He fought against this instinct, unable to disrespect his priestess by stealing her battle from her. She was a warrior and a fighter of great skill. To intervene would be a slap to her face and the last thing he wanted was for his first real impression, as delayed as it was, to be so poor.

  
  


Even with his determination to stay out of her battle, he became concerned as they neared a cliff which overlooked a steep drop into the valley below. For a being such as himself, such a height would be nothing more than an excellent dive into the sky. For a human such as the Haruno… A fall from that height would spell death.

  
  


Madara watched as the man came to a stop at the edge of the cliff face, whipping around to face her. The feathers of his wings rose in his fury as the man struck out at his priestess with a chain, the warrior priestess taking a blow to the face that stunned her. She stumbled backwards, shaking her head as if to shake off the pain, before rushing forward to confront the thief.

  
  


As the tengu watched the battle rage on, and watched as the invader landed blows against his priestess, he ached the draw his gunbai. His special ha-uchiwa was one passed down to the leaders of his clan and, while it lacked the feathers regular ha-uchiwa were crafted from, his could summons winds more powerful than any other fan. His great fan was said to have been passed down by the mother of all tengu, Amanozako herself, and was a weapon he itched to draw to defend the woman he loved.

  
  


After all, he could blow this man off of the cliff with just a flick of his wrist and save his priestess from the pain of this battle.

  
  


But no matter how much his instinct demanded he fight, he refused to disrespect the warrior priestess by doing so. Instead, he continued to watch on, his mouth popping open in surprise when she kicked the man, her heel catching his temple and spinning him on his feet.

  
  


Madara watched as the man collapsed, knocked unconscious from the force behind her blow, the statue he had greedily cradled in one hand slipping out of his grasp. He relaxed incrementally, relieved the danger had passed, before he watched the Haruno priestess chase after the statue.

  
  


The stone bust rolled out of the man’s hands and towards the cliff. Every muscle in his body tensed as she dove after it, desperate to keep it from tumbling over the edge. Her fingertips brushed against it but she was too late, the precious object plummeting over the edge of the cliff face.

  
  


“No!” she screamed, her stomach flat on the ground as she desperately reached out over the cliff as if she could still reach the falling statue.

  
  


Madara leapt from his perch, tucking his wings against his back to lower his air resistance as he shot after the object. He grabbed the statue mid air, his wings spreading wide to slow his descent just enough to catch the air he needed to regain flight. His great wings were able to manipulate the air, an action so familiar it was second nature, to bring him back into the sky.

  
  


He flew upwards, returning to the cliff face where she remained, her forehead pressed to the ground and her hands fisted in the grass as she cried into the dirt. He landed soundlessly, frowning as the sound of her tears tore at his heart.

  
  


“Excuse me, priestess?” Madara broached softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he spoke the first words he ever had to the object of his affection.

  
  


He jumped when she shot to her feet, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she quickly backed away. Her narrowed eyes looked him up and down, determining how much of a danger he was, and he tried to keep his wings tucked in close to appear less threatening.

  
  


“Who are you, what do you want?!” she demanded, taking a menacing step forward to intimidate him.

  
  


His wings fluffed outwards, his nervousness at finally speaking to her making it more difficult to control the fine movements of his wings. He held his hand out, as if in surrender, in the hopes to calm the priestess. He slowly reached up to his dark, beak-like mask, carefully removing it and revealing his true face.

  
  


“I believe you lost something?” the tengu tried, his other hand reaching out to present her with the statue he had saved from the fall.

  
  


“You…” she gasped, her eyes flicking between the bust and his eyes as her face relaxed into an expression of shock instead of fury, “You caught it?”

  
  


“I did… It appeared as if it was of great importance to you,” Madara explained simply, his gaze meaningfully lingering on the unconscious invader before returning to her.

  
  


“It is. It’s the bust of my goddess Konohanasakuya-hime... It’s one of my temple's most precious possessions,” the Haruno explained.

  
  


“Then I’m happy to have recovered it for you,” Madara admitted easily, a smile building on his face.

  
  


When he took a couple steps forward to return to her her precious object, he noticed her wariness, the priestess taking a hesitant step backwards. When her gaze lingered on his wings and the talons of his feet, anxiety welled within him and his slow smile fell. He halted, not wanting to upset her, instead holding out the statue for her to take.

  
  


She took a cautious step forward, staring into his face as if searching for a hidden motive. He remained still as she slowly took the stone bust from his hands and once again retreated to a safe distance away from him.

  
  


“Thank you,” she finally spoke, her eyes drifting down to the statue to check for damage before returning to him, “You’ve performed a boon for my temple. We owe you a great debt. Is there anything that you desire as a reward for your services?”

  
  


“Your name,” Madara immediately replied, wanting nothing more at that moment than her name.

  
  


“Excuse me?” she sputtered, her eyebrows coming together in confusion as she stared at him.

  
  


“I want your name.”

  
  


“My name…” she whispered, shocked by his request, “My name… It’s Sakura Haruno.”

  
  


Madara smiled widely, each syllable of her name washing over him like a warm wind beneath his wings. It was perfect… She was perfect.

  
  


“That’s a beautiful name,” he complimented before he could restrain himself.

  
  


“T-thank you…” Sakura stuttered as a cute blush spread across her cheeks, one which was infinitely endearing to the tengu.

  
  


“If I may be so bold,” he began, taking a half step forward, “I would ask for one more thing.”

  
  


“What do you want?” she replied, her tone wary even as her blush remained.

  
  


“I would like to see you again. There is to be a meteor shower within the next few moons. My mountain has the best view, unimpeded by the trees in the valley… If you would be so inclined,” he offered, his heart flying in his chest.

  
  


“I… I would have to ask my high priestess,” Sakura returned bashfully.

  
  


“You could tell Lady Mebuki that it was a boon asked of the tengu who recovered the bust of Konohanasakuya-hime,” he suggested slyly, a smile spreading across his lips.

  
  


When she glanced down at the ground only to gaze up at him once again through her eyelashes, his heart leapt in his chest.

  
  


“Perhaps I shall.”

  
  


Madara’s wings fanned out around him in his excitement, his feathers fluffing outwards, before he reeled in his obvious expression of his glee. He pulled his wings against his back once again, clearing his throat as he did.

  
  


“Then I shall send an envoy to collect you for the journey to my mountain.”

  
  


He stepped towards the edge of the cliff, reaching up to place his black, crow-like mask back onto his face and hide the heat he could feel building on his cheeks. As he moved to slip his mask on, he was surprised by her suddenly calling out to him.

  
  


“Wait!” Sakura yelled out, reaching out towards him and taking a couple steps forward.

  
  


“Yes, Lady Sakura?” he asked as he turned to face her.

  
  


“I haven’t gotten your name…” she explained softly, pulling her hand back to her chest in her shyness.

  
  


Madara smiled widely as he walked forward, taking slow steps, until he was standing before her. She didn’t retreat away this time although she held the statue in her hands tightly.

  
  


“My name is Madara Uchiha,” he answered, stretching out one of his raven wings.

  
  


In a gesture that was so meaningful to the prideful clan of Uchiha tengu, Madara reached out and plucked a feather from his wing. His wing returned to his back as he presented the feather to the object of his affection.

  
  


He thought of the time that his feather had fallen free when he lost control of his henge after she had touched him all those years ago. How she had held onto his lost feather for months so she could return it. He had lost his feather the first time but, this time, he wanted her to have it. Although he had struggled to gather the courage to approach her in the past, he was now able to find the boldness he needed to present her with such a grand gesture.

  
  


“For you,” he hummed, Sakura looking down on the proffered gift with an expression of shock.

  
  


She slowly reached out to take the feather from his hands, Madara’s heart flying in his chest as her warm fingertips brushed against his. A smile spread across his lips and was one that could only be hidden behind the mask he returned to his face.

  
  


She stared at the feather for a long moment, twirling it between her fingers. Her gaze suddenly shot up to his, her mouth parting in surprise.

  
  


“Are you…?” Sakura whispered.

  
  


“I look forward to seeing you again, Lady Sakura,” Madara declared before taking a step backwards and leaping off of the cliff side.

  
  


As he caught wind beneath his wings and took to the sky, the excitement from his flight could hardly compare to his excitement at finally meeting the woman he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

  
  


_Sakura Haruno..._

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sakura watched, entranced, as the tengu ascended into the sky.

  
  


She had never met a tengu before, despite knowing that her temple resided upon their lands. She had heard from her mother about how she had approached the leader of the clan to ask for the land they now lived upon. It was her respect for the forest and respect for his tribe that afforded her the land their temple now sat upon.

  
  


It had been many years since Tajima Uchiha had been the leader of their clan, the man apparently having passed away and given leadership of their tribe to a tengu named Madara.

  
  


Madara Uchiha…

  
  


Sakura’s jaw dropped as she finally put together the pieces and realized that she had just been faced with the leader of the clan of tengu, the man who ruled over the mountain that their temple sat upon. She felt a surge of embarrassment as she realized how hostile she had been to him, her adrenaline having been mercilessly flowing through her following her battle against the thief and her loss of the statue.

  
  


Not only had Madara saved the bust of Konohanasakuya-hime, one of her temple’s most precious possessions, but he had asked her to join him during the meteor shower just a few days in the future.

  
  


Her grip around the statue in her hands tightened when she realized that she had just been asked to join the leader of the tengu tribe for a courtship ritual. She wasn’t particularly familiar with the rituals of the beings who ruled the mountain but she could recognize a date when she saw one.

  
  


Sakura’s eyes slipped down from the sky that Madara had long since disappeared into and down to the feather in her hands. She marveled at how beautiful it looked with the sun lighting it up in a thousand shades of black. She rolled it between her fingers, surprised by the weight of it, before she pulled it close to her chest.

  
  


The feather felt so familiar, his presence had somehow felt so familiar… She wondered if Madara truly was her crow Karasu.

  
  


Either way, Sakura had never experienced such gratefulness to a man. She somehow knew that this relationship would mean so much more. Or maybe that it already did...

 

* * *

  
  


For the days following the attack and her introduction to the tengu leader, Sakura kept his feather tucked into the folds of her clothes. She kept his little gift to her a secret, his present remaining close to her heart. No one mentioned such an odd gift specifically, even after she explained to her head priestess and her mother Mebuki what had happened, so she assumed it had been innocuous.

  
  


She waited on baited breath for the tengu entourage to finally come and gather her for the meteor shower just a few days later. The morning before their arrival, Sakura had decided to braid her gifted feather into her hair. The heavy ebony feather hung from her meticulous pink braid, wound into the strands of her hair.

  
  


She wanted to show Madara that, despite how nervous she was about their meeting, that she was happy to see him once again. Not only that, but that she was excited for their night together watching the stars fall from the sky.

  
  


When they finally arrived, Sakura felt as if she would jump out of her skin from her excitement. She saw as they descended from the mountaintop from her room in the temple and happily emerged from her home. She caught sight of her mother, patiently waiting for the entourage to arrive, before noticing, to her surprise, that Madara was leading the group.

  
  


He was perched upon an intricately decorated palanquin along side two other tengu, one with his long hair tied back and the other with a head of messy locks. The wheelless vehicle was painted in bright colors and draped in fine silks and, instead of the litter being carried by people or even tengu, it was carried by shadowy beings. The shadows disappeared in the direct sunlight but reappeared in the shade, their forms vaguely resembling humans whose bodies were blurry around the edges.

  
  


Sakura felt as nervousness built within her, an anxiety that only increased when her mother looked over to her and saw the feather braided into her long pink hair. Sakura noticed as Mebuki’s mouth popped open and her eyes widened in shock but, before the head priestess could speak, Sakura’s attention was drawn back to Madara by his suddenly flaring wings.

  
  


He leaped from the palanquin, his wings providing for him the force he needed to span the distance between him and her, and landed before her. Before she could speak a word, his wings wrapped around her, surprising her with their strength. He hid her from all of the priestesses and the tengu with his feathers, pulling her close to him.

  
  


“Lady Sakura… You wear a part of me…” Madara purred, his hand drifting up to grasp his feather twined into her hair.

  
  


Sakura blushed heavily as he toyed with her braid, rendered speechless by the sudden affection. When his gaze flicked from her braid to her eyes, she struggled to find her voice, her lips parting as if to speak but her tongue unable to form words. When his hands slid upwards to cradle her face, a warm smile gracing his lips, she could feel as her heart flew in her chest.

  
  


Before she could say a word, he leaned down and pressed her lips to hers. She gasped through her nose, her hands coming up to fist in the fabric of his suzukake. His lips moved against hers sweetly although she could feel the barely withheld passion in his affection, his powerful wings pulling her closer.

  
  


Madara slowly pulled away from her with a pleased sigh, resting his forehead against hers.

  
  


“I accept,” he purred against her lips, his onyx eyes sliding open once again to gaze into her viridian orbs.

  
  


“W-what?” Sakura gasped, her mind foggy as she struggled to find her balance, leaning against him heavily.

  
  


“I promise you will never grow hungry, you will never feel sickness, and you will never want for anything. I vow to you a life of joy,” he promised, his sudden vehemence both confusing and electrifying her.

  
  


Madara’s thumbs gently brushed against her cheeks as he tilted his head, leaning down as if to press his lips to hers again. Her hands tightened in his suzukake.

  
  


“My bride…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The stories of Madara’s tribe’s experiences with the men of the mountain are loosely based on folktales of Tengu: “The Tengu and the Woodcutter”, “The Tengu’s Fan”, “The Tengu’s Gourd”, “The Tengu’s Magic Cloak”, and “The Old Man’s Lump Removed”.


End file.
